


Discoveries

by pechekeen



Series: Wavelengths [5]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Artist Timmy, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mutual Pining, am i hinting that things will get steamy?, mmmaybe, podcast/ voice actor armie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-01 10:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14518959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pechekeen/pseuds/pechekeen
Summary: The stars aligned and Armie and Timothée finally meet. Now the question is where things go from here..





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this whole part is going to be a _ride_ and will have some filler chapters (so if anyone has any prompts / ideas you want me to write in this verse let me know either in the comments or over on my tumblr!)
> 
> i also want to take some time out and say thank you to each and every person that has read this series so far. all of your kudos and comments have seriously boosted my confidence to keep writing (and to write so frequently) and i love all of you folks!

First of all, Timothée recognized that man in the stairwell- that incredibly handsome man- as the same person that had passed out on his couch. He had essentially been left to bite the dust when the blond ran out of his apartment last Friday. As silly as it was, Timothée had been worried about the guy.

Did he get back to his own place safely? Did he hydrate enough to get past the hangover quickly? Did he break into someone else's place and pass out on their couch? The questions were endless and it plagued him throughout the week. Now he had come face to face with the source of it all, only to be told that this was _also_ his neighbor. The same neighbor that he had been singing to for the past year or so. The same person that sent messages through the mail and over the phone that he cherished, because it was always like a pick-me-up for the days he felt pretty low. Which, have been happening more often lately, but that was another thing for another time. This _enigma_ was the Armie Hammer that he knew was one hell of a great dad to his kids despite the complicated relationship he had, or lacked, with Harper and Ford's mother. If he was the dramatic type he would've sworn he almost got a headache from the realization, but he was more horrified than anything. Talk about whiplash.

The first thing that came to mind was how stupidly attractive Armie was, and that original speculation had all but doubled since he knew who Armie was as a person. He'd admit that he had been incredibly drawn to the man's personality, but he wasn't sure if he could handle that _and_ the man's stunning looks. The second thing that came to mind was that he had said the drunken stranger was hot. ' _Really fucking hot. Almost model status'_ to be exact and he wanted to _disappear_. All he could think of was if Armie knew; if the man was aware of how he thought regarding his appearance. Of course Armie knew- how couldn't he? Armie had replied to that text a week ago, and Timothée was sure he was red up to the tips of his ears.

A part of him knew that it was impossible for him to keep his wits about, but he tried his hardest anyways. Timothée moved first and even held the door open by the edge when they both reached the lobby floor. Yet they came to a stand still when Armie held the door behind him; probably to let Timothée walk out of the stairwell first, but he had just looked back at Armie with the intention to let the blond through first. So, they stared at each other for a long second before Timothée relented and shuffled out.

His shoulders were hunched slightly as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He hated how clammy his palms had gotten, and he hated how awkward the air was in between them. The only being that wasn't impacted by the truth was Armie's dog. The terrier continued to strain and pull against the leash in an attempt to bolt forward. It made his neighbor huff and sigh exasperatedly as he took a few longer strides towards the front door. Timothée didn't try to keep up in hopes that it would prevent anymore awkwardly timed stand stills in an attempt to be polite. Armie held the front door open for him and he mumbled a word of thanks as he stepped outside.

What the hell was he doing? Really, just what had possessed him to actually take Armie up on his offer to go for a walk?

The break of fresh air hardly offered him any comfort like it usually did. He was still ridden with nervous tension, and he felt like he was practically vibrating from the inside out. _Armie was his neighbor and the hot guy that passed out on my couch_ , Timothée kept repeating over and over again in his head as he followed where Armie walked. The drunk and his neighbor were the same man and he wasn't sure if this was some sick joke or if he needed to be pinched back into reality.

"So, listen.." The deep timbre of Armie's voice broke through his spiraling thoughts in an instant. "I'm really sorry about.. what happened last Friday with the whole..." The man gestured with his hand to fill in what he had failed to say out loud.

"With the whole crashing at my place without knowing where you were." It came out as a statement rather than a question, because, well, that's exactly what had happened. He was kind of proud how his voice didn't waver from the nauseating stress that climbed from his stomach up to his throat.

"Yeah, that." Armie's shoulders slumped in what looked like defeat as the man kept his eyes on the sidewalk. "I, um.. I should've told you sooner since it freaked you out, and I can't really use Hops and Ford as an excuse because.." Again, Armie trailed off as he reached up to rub the back of his head.

"Because it was embarrassing or something?" Timothée said slowly as an attempt to complete the other's thought. He felt his anxiety jump a little and almost berated himself for presuming how Armie could have felt at the time, but he was met with a reluctant nod from the other man and felt relieved. "I can't.. really blame you? I mean, if I was in your shoes I probably.. would've done the same thing." His voice dropped into a mumble as he mirrored the other man as he went to stare at the ground. Then again, Timothée knew that he could empathize with other people a little too easily, but that seemed to ease some tension out of his neighbor.

"Really fucking embarrassing- I swear I don't just bust into random places to sleep at. I don't even get that _drunk_ that often, and the one time I do.." A soft, incredulous laugh escaped Armie as he tilted his head up and shook it. "I felt like a creep. I still kind of do, and if you want nothing to do with me then I get it- one hundred percent."

Their eyes met and Timothée was quick to frown. "Hey, I'll admit that it was pretty bizarre, but I don't want _nothing_ with you- wow, I could've worded that better." He rose a hand to cover his mouth for a moment before he cleared his throat. There was a soft snort to his side and he felt a smile start to pull at his lips. "Why don't we start over? Not from the beginning, but like- hey, I'm Timothée and I'm your downstairs neighbor." He stuck a hand out for a handshake and prayed that his palms weren't _too_ sweaty or that the slight tremor in his hand would go unnoticed.

The taller man looked over with a brow quirked and a crooked smile already on his lips. "Nice to meet you for the first time, _Timothée_. I'm Armie and I'm your upstairs neighbor," Armie said with an air of humor as they shook hands.

His smile morphed into a grin, and he tried his hardest to suppress the small chill that ran down his spine from hearing Armie say his name. It was one thing to hear him be called T, and a whole fucking other thing to hear each syllable get drawn out in that deep rumble. Some part of him almost dared to mention how his name was supposed to be pronounced, but he was sure he'd feel lightheaded if that actually happened.

Timothée dropped his hand and looked ahead of him so he could see where he was going. Some of the unease started to ebb away, but he didn't want to overstep any boundaries so he made sure to think thoroughly before he spoke. "So, how's your day been?" There, that was fairly innocent enough to ask without feeling red in the cheeks.

"Not bad besides almost getting a black eye from tripping over Archie all day." The dog looked back at them with it's tongue lolled out and it tugged a chortle out of Armie. "Been catching up on some stuff. How about you?"

Timothée pursed his lips as he shrugged. "Same old, same old." Which, he quickly realized that his friend wasn't aware of what that entailed. "I was supposed to head into the studio, but it looked like it was going to storm today so.." It wasn't completely untrue since the clouds did look awfully grey and foreboding. What he did fib about was the reason for not going into his studio. He had intended to head over when he left his room, but he just couldn't let this chance slip by. Which, was a funny thing in itself since he had been constantly anxious and giddy throughout this encounter so far. It made his stomach clench and his shoulders ache from tensing them so hard, but here he was anyways.

"Huh.. yeah it does look like it's about to pour. Good thing we left when we did. I'm pretty sure Archie would've taken down a wall if I didn't let him out," Armie said as he squinted his eyes at the sky.

 _It was also a good thing since I finally got the chance to actually meet you,_ Timothée thought to himself in return. Finding out that Armie was also the drunkard from last week was an additional bonus, but he didn't want to think about that right now. There was too much embarrassment that went hand in hand with thatl.

"But a studio?" Armie asked as they turned left to wander down another block.

"Yeah, it's about twenty minutes away. I use it to work- oh, I'm an artist. I don't think.. I ever told you that?" His voice pitched into an uncertain question as he tried to think back to their prior conversations.

"Nope, you didn't, but that's neat. What kind of art do you do?

"Contemporary, abstract.. I paint for the most part." His phone was taken out while he spoke so he could pull up some pictures. Normally he didn't like to show anyone his work when he was questioned for the first few times, but he found himself _wanting_ to show Armie.

The phone was taken and Armie went quiet as he flipped through the pictures. "Holy shit, Timmy," he said after a moment. "You painted this? I mean, I don't know why I'm asking, but this is really good-" Armie paused and scrunched his nose as he looked at Timothée. "You probably get that a lot, but really, though, holy shit. What's the story to all of these? If you don't mind me asking- I know I can get nosy so if you ever need me to zip it just tell me."

Timothée tugged at the end of a curl as he looked away with a now sheepish smile. "Thanks, and you're fine. I have a lot more than just those, but the ones I took pictures of are the ones that were showcased. There's this.. long, convoluted explanation, but the basis behind those come from my emotions. Something happens, I feel something, and I translate that moment into abstract movement and colors."

"So every piece is like a personal window to an experience you had?" Armie asked back with a thoughtful tinge to his words.

"Yeah, more or less. Some of them are times where I get so overwhelmed with a specific emotion and I can't _not_ paint it out. Some of them are inspired by the emotions of others- like there's a piece I did based on my sister visiting from France. I, um.. missed her a lot and she's always been supportive over my work. Those are from my.. last relationship." His throat suddenly felt a little tight, but he smiled despite himself and he started to look back over when he didn't hear the other man speak up. There was an incredibly concentrated look on Armie's face as his thumb hovered over the screen. "Everything okay?" Timothée asked as they slowed their steps.

"Yeah.. yeah, I'm fine." Yet the continued attentiveness made Timothée think otherwise. "It's just.. I know I'm not the best at picking things up or being all artistic with critiquing or anything, but what happened?"

"What did.. _what_ happen?" Timothée asked back slowly. He didn't understand what Armie was inquiring even when the screen of his own phone was turned back to him.

"There's a shift. Then again, I don't know if _shift_ is the right word, but something just feels.. different. Like there's motion that continues past each piece."

Armie swiped from the first picture to the last that sat in the folder.

Suddenly, Armie's question made sense. Understanding blossomed and he felt a little short of breath, because Armie had been right. There was movement that leaked past the border of each individual panel. It was hard to pick up on when they were photographed and not seen in person, but most viewers didn't _see_ that when the actual pieces seen face to face. The only other people that had asked him something similar had been Pauline, one of his closest art professors, and best friend. Timothée wasn't completely surprised at how acute they had been with being able to see how the meaning behind each piece had changed.

The first picture had been at the peak of Saoirse and his relationship. It was full of warm hues that led the eye in a tandem of livelihood. _Life_ and _love_ seemed to spill over the edges and stole away the breath of any viewer. He had been told countless of times how inspiring and passionate that specific piece was, and Timothée had always agreed because it was the simple truth. He had been head over heels with Saoirse and she had been the same with him. It had been so _easy_ to render it through his brushes and onto the canvas. The memory of his progress from beginning to end was still fresh in his mind, and it stuck out like a sore thumb. What had once filled him with happiness and adoration had turned sour long ago.

The next few pieces contained the same palette and similar movement, but the accents had started to wane. The impeccable richness had hairline streaks and it wasn't noticeable unless someone knew where to look. Yet the _shift_ was still there. It was still evident with each piece as a different range of color were incorporated. Timothée knew where things had changed. He knew how harsh he had started to get towards the last piece, but that hadn't been revealed to the curators and other artists. Only the select few knew about the bumps and dips that had taken place in whatever he had with Saoirse. They hadn't been _dating_ , but they weren't just friends either. He had been tampering with the idea that she could have been so much more before things had been severed.

Timothée stared at the last picture on his phone with his lips pursed. There was a small tick of unease and disturbance, of _fear_ with how fast Armie had sensed the truth. That man had somehow looked past all of the aesthetically pleasing aspects and distractions, and saw the hidden surface. It was downright uncanny and it made his skin crawl with goosebumps. A knot formed in the base of his throat and he opened his mouth to answer, but didn't have to time to utter a single word.

"Oh, shit," Armie muttered suddenly as he wiped his face with the back of a hand. "It's starting to rain- we should probably head back."

True to Armie's word, droplets started to patter down and he didn't need to be told twice to get a move on. The hood of his jacket was pulled up as he was handed his phone. Timothée was about to try and give his neighbor an explanation again, but the rain picked up speed and made them run towards their apartment complex. Both of them were soaked by the time they reached the lobby. Archie shook the water off and sprayed them. Armie sputtered and Timothée laughed as he shielded his face from the onslaught of water. The break of tension shoved all of the depressing feelings back into the deep pit of his mind, and he was more than happy to ignore it for a while longer.

"Well, maybe the short run tired him out a little," Timothée commented as they went to the stairwell, but he was almost sure he wasn't right. The terrier was still wagging it's tail with vigor and tugged it's poor owner along. He tried to hide a smile when Armie looked at him exasperatedly.

"And the sun doesn't shine when it rains- _don't_ comment on that," Armie said as they climbed the steps. "He's going to tear the place up. I'm going to have to play with him for hours- I'm calling it." Yet Armie's words didn't hold any heat to them.

"I'm sorry to say, but I don't know of any dog lullabies." Timothée was met with a pitiful look and he laughed. "Maybe it's just the rain. Like how showers can energize or make you even more tired."

"God, I hope so," Armie sighed as they reached the second floor.

"Well, I'm gonna go and get dry. I'll.. text you? Or I guess I'll see you around sometime?" His heart lurched at the thought of seeing Armie again even though he knew that he could hypothetically ask to hang out with the man. They _were_ friends after all, and that's what friends did, right?

Armie smiled almost sheepishly and nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, I'll see you around and hopefully not on your couch all unannounced and at the dead of night. Actually, you could prevent that by locking your door whenever you leave. Not that I'm saying it's going to happen _again-_ "

"Armie, calm down. If you just so happen to pass out on my couch again then it's no big deal. It's better than losing you in who knows where. Plus, now that we've officially met- my place is your place and you're welcome over any time. Just, you know, try to give me a heads up," Timothée teased lightly as he opened the door. "Don't get run into the ground by Archie." There was a snort in response as he waved and made his exit with more nerves than he knew how to handle. His eyes were wide and rounded the second he turned around and let the door close, because _holy shit_ that was nerve wracking.

He had done his hardest to play it cool and _not_ notice how picture perfect Armie was with his clothes and hair all wet. God, it was like the man walked out of a magazine and he couldn't stand it. Hopefully he hadn't been _too_ hasty with his departure, but time would only tell before he had the courage to message Armie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this entire series will be heavily influenced based off of what all of you folks want to see so be sure to leave a comment on here or send me a message [over on my Tumblr! ](http://peche-keen.tumblr.com/)


	2. Pistachios and Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a few days since the last update, huh? sorry about that i got sick and i haven't been able to write, but i hope this chapter helps while i try and get a head start on the next one :')

In the back of his head, Timothée knew that he was probably psyching himself out _way_ too much. He couldn't get Armie out of his head ever since he had bumped into him in that stairwell. The more he reevaluated the scene the more horrified he became. _God_ he had probably acted like some awkward teenager with how much he fumbled and flushed. If Timothée had been the other man he knew for a fact that he wouldn't have wanted to stay in contact with himself. Then again, he had an amazing capacity for self loathing so he tried to give himself a break from the sheer embarrassment he had carried over from that one instance.

Timothée had been the first to text Armie, and he hated to admit how strung up he had been in the duration it took to get a text back. He had tried to busy himself with getting dry and in clean clothes, but he went back to check his phone and see if he had gotten a message. Which, there hadn't been, so he went to go brew himself a pot of coffee to sip on for the next hour or so. Then he was back to straing at his phone once more to see absolutely _nothing_. So, he sighed, rolled his eyes at himself and then tucked the device away in his pocket to keep it out of sight.

He had been half buried under the throw blanket Pauline had mailed him when he finally heard a soft chime vibrate from his phone. Timothée tried to let a few minutes pass before he opened it up, but he could only wait for one single minute before he unlocked his phone. Thankfully, Armie didn't poke and prod about how awkward their encounter was, and their conversation went on as per usual. He eventually worried over how to phrase a simple request to hang out for a grand total of five minutes before he just let his fingers type with the hope for the best.

  


**Sat , Apr 28** 6:12 PM

****  
**_[Timothée]_**  


So now that we broke the ice..

**_[Armie]_**  
Timmy 

We fucking smashed the ice

Full on obliterated it

**_[Timothée]_**  


Ok, alright drama king

Aaaaanyways do you want to idk

**_[Armie]_**  
Want to.. 

There are a lot of things that I want to, T

you have to be specific

**_[Timothée]_**  


Omg chill I was getting there.

Do you want to hang out sometime?

Like in person and not just over the phone

**_[Armie]_**  
What? You don't like communicating via electronic devices?

**_[Timothée]_**  


Ok you just gained like 10 years for typing that.

**_[Armie]_**  
Oh, ouch. 

Well I look pretty damn good for a 41 year old if that's the case

I'm just pulling your leg, T

When do you want hang?

**_[Timothée]_**  


Anytime really

My schedule's pretty flexible and it's not like we live that far

**_[Armie]_**  
I don't know about you..

but going down a floor can be preeetty tiring

**_[Timothée]_**  


Ooooooooook whatever you say

  
He couldn't help but think that maybe...it _would be_ better to keep their friendship over the phone. It'd certainly save him some face, what with how contorted his expressions got whenever Armie said something funny or mildly insinuating. Then again, his mind could just be stuck in the gutter when his neighbor's only had good intentions. It honestly wouldn't be surprising that if that was the case.

\-----------------------------------------------

It turns out that he really did psych himself out too much. Timothée wouldn't go as far to say that it hadn't been for _no reason_ , but he was quick to pick up on how.. _easy_ it was to be around Armie. There wasn't much to freak out about other than the man's devilishly good looks, his well-timed, wicked humor, the sound of his voice when he laughed...okay, so there were a lot of things that got under his skin, but Armie had an uncanny ability to make all of that melt away for the most part. The man's happiness was contagious and Armie was downright ridiculous most of the time.

The first time they hung out had teetered around some awkwardness, but they were testing the waters- so to speak. Timothée had been intent on taking in the new surroundings, and he couldn't help but melt a little when he saw lingering evidence of Harper and Ford's presence even though they only stayed every other weekend. They had talked about this and that; nothing too serious or over the top. He hadn't planned the visit correctly and left his sketchbook at home, but promised to bring it _the next time_ he came over when Armie asked to see some of his sketches.

They ended up flipping through Netflix, and actually managed to watch a few shows without being a statistic. Their clothes stayed on and their interactions stayed rather platonic. Which, Timothée felt immensely proud of himself for since it took a considerable amount of effort to stay civil and _not_ flirt. The only thing that was a little out of the spectrum was how he had crammed some pistachio shells in between the couch cushions. Timothée knew that he could've gotten up to dump them in the trashcan, but he had done it anyways and, in turn, knew he would never hear the end of it for the rest of his life. Armie kept bringing it up every now and then just to poke fun, and Timothée would try to change the subject to keep the hot streak of embarrassment off of his face.

Now, it's been months since then and he was happy to say that they were pretty great friends; actual friends that didn't lurk behind a hidden identity and all of that, because Timothée will always hold _that_ over Armie's head so long as the pistachio thing kept going. They were more spontaneous with their 'agreed' hangout days and times. _'Agreed'_ was used loosely since Armie had the habit of wandering downstairs to knock on his door anytime he knew Timothée was home.

_'Why strain your voice and sing up a level when you can do it with me right here?'_ Armie once said with his body stretched out on the same couch he had once passed out on. _'Archie's being a hell riser again and I really need to get some work done. So, I hope you don't mind me crashing here so you can distract him. I mean.. surprise?'_ Armie had said another time with the wriggling Welsh terrier caged in his tanned arms. _'I just miss hanging with you- is that so weird?'_ Armie said the last time he had randomly banged on the front door with a six pack and a giant bag of pistachios in tow.

Timothée, of course, had never complained no matter the time of day or night his friend came over. The obvious reason for that was because he was head over heels for the older man, but Timothée came up with other excuses out of the influence of denial. Reasons like how it was nice to have another pair of eyes watch his progress whenever he painted at home, or how Armie was simply the greatest company to have around for any occasion. Stuff like that was what kept him preoccupied when he had the time to just think and not speak.

"You're going fall off the couch if you lean that far."

A voice broke through the wall of concentration he had been absorbed in for the past half hour. Timothée blinked and gave a quick, reluctant glance towards Armie so he wouldn't miss the current scene. Well, he wasn't _that_ invested in the movie; it was just a cover up to allow himself to reflect for more than a few seconds while he was with Armie. "And you're going to cramp up or lose feeling in your lower back if you keep sitting like that," Timothée retorted in a mumble as he looked back at the flat screen.

There was a breathy snort in return as his outer thigh was nudged by Armie's knee. "So what? I have you to help poor old me if that happens so I'm not too worried." Came the teasing response that automatically had Timothée fight himself to _not_ grin along.

Timothée turned his head and regarded his friend with a thoughtful look. "I don't know.." He said slowly, making sure to draw out each syllable for emphasis as his expression turned doubtful.

"You don't know what? That you'd help a brother in need? That's harsh, Timmy- even in my standards," Armie said with a soft gasp of mock hurt; although the smile on the man's face betrayed him.

He scrunched his nose and knocked back at Armie with his elbow. The point of it dug into the man's side and made Armie shift away an inch. "A brother in need, sure, but you know that it's easy to prevent it in the first place. You don't need to manspread across the entire couch."

"I'm not manspreading across the _entire_ couch. You're still on it, aren't you?" Armie scoffed back as he bumped against Timothée's leg again before he reached out to prod into the brunet's side. "Besides, the only thing that I want to spread is-" That train of thought was cut short as Timothée jolted away from the poke. Both of them went still for a few beats, just to stare and read each other from where they sat. A knowing smile started to creep across Armie's face as Timothée started to warp his expression into horror.

"Don't.." Timothée warned lightly with his eyes glancing down to where Armie's hand stayed halfway extended towards his flank.

"Don't what, sweet tea?" Armie drawled back in a sickeningly sweet tone as he slowly leaned over.

"Don't do that- I'm not.." He tried again as he started to lean back.

"You're not _what_? Ticklish?" Armie's fingers wiggled in the air as he spoke, but the man paused his advances for a moment.

"Yeah, that," Timothée breathed just as he saw a flash of teeth while Armie lunged over to close the space in between them. A startled yelp was quickly cut off as he belted into a laugh that made his stomach ache. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath from how insistent his friend was with the tickling. Timothée tried several times to tell Armie to stop, but he couldn't get more than a few syllables out- much less an entire sentence. He tried to retaliate and tickle the taller man back, but Armie used his weight as an advantage and flipped them around. His arms were caught in between the fronts of their bodies as he found himself trapped underneath Armie.

Timothée sucked in large breaths of air when Armie eased up on the tickling, but he was quick to wish that the man hadn't given him the chance to breathe. Now he had the time to gaze upwards at the bright, mischievous grin the man wore, and feel the solid muscle pressed against the flat of his palm. _Fuck_. Well, that was the ideal, but he couldn't bring himself to be _that bold_ ; even though he found himself curling his fingers into the loose fabric of Armie's shirt involuntarily.

"Didn't make you pull anything from laughing that hard, did I?" Armie asked playfully, but with a hint of legitimate concern in the back of his voice. The man had a hand rested right beside Timothée's head as he practically ogled at the blond.

"No," he answered, still faintly out of breath as he watched the display of light from the tv shift across the man's features. It did interesting things to the deep blue of Armie's eyes, and he had a feeling he'd get sucked into them if he wasn't careful. "I didn't make you throw out your back, did I?"

Surprise came to Armie's face for a split second before he laughed hard enough to have the corners of his eyes crinkle in humor. "What do you take me for- some fifty year old? Don't be such a _brat_." Armie dove back in with a hand to tickle along the soft underside of Timothée's abdomen right as the last word was said.

He gasped back with another shaky peal of laughter as he tried to swat the man's hand away and push at Armie's torso simultaneously. It was no surprise that he failed to stop the bigger man, but he also rewarded himself by the feeling of hair against the sides of his knuckles. His eyes caught sight of how tight he had fisted his hand into the man's shirt. He had all but twisted the fabric towards the side to reveal the top patch of chest hair.

Shit.

Timothée struggled to regain his breath again as the tickling stopped. His brows were creased from the exertion to feebly defend himself, but they furrowed even further when he felt an all too familiar warmth start to spread within him. It was in that moment that he realized a few things. The first being how easily Armie could keep him here, pinned under his weight with only his arms and legs as bars to have him contained. The second was how much of an unintentional turn on that was. The third, and last, being how evident that was starting to become. To his complete and utter dismay, his body, specifically his lower half, seemed all too interested in the wrestling.

"Okay- _okay_ , I take it back! You're pretty spry for a.. forty year old-" He honestly had no one else to blame other than himself when Armie tickled him _again_. This time he tried even harder to squirm his way out, but he couldn't really go anywhere when Armie had a hand firmly planted next to his middle. Timothée tried to use his legs to nudge the man off, but the proved to worsen his odds when the other man slid a leg _in between_ them. It was just to balance himself, but Timothée understood the full extent of his mistake when he tried to push himself down to gain more leverage before he would push _up_. Yeah, all that did was essentially make himself grind against Armie's thigh, and _fuck_ he wanted to cry a bit when a small whimper like noise escaped him.

Apparently Armie didn't hear it (thank God for that), but stilled his movements to even out his breathing. "You wanna try again or am I gonna have to keep going until you tap out?" He asked with a shit eating grin still stretched wide across his face.

"Thirty one! Thirty one- you win," Timothée wheezed as he let his head drop down to the arm of the couch. He snorted quietly as his friend's smile turned triumphant, but the funniest thing was how neither one of them moved. Armie still had himself balanced over and in between him while Timothée, himself, remained comfortably covered. If he wasn't sporting a half chub he would've taken his time to soak in the moment, but he urged Armie off after another few seconds just so he could sit up and try to readjust himself without being seen.

"That's what I thought," Armie said as he flopped back onto the couch with his legs spread and his back fitted snugly against the cushions.

"And I thought we were supposed to be watching the movie," Timothée lightheartedly grumbled back as he sank against the back of the couch.

"I mean, I don't know about you, but _I was_. Being able to multitask is a great skill to have.." Armie slid his gaze towards Timothée and made it rather evident that the blond wasn't paying attention to the movie.

Timothée rolled his eyes and prayed that the lack of lighting in the room would cover how heated his cheeks had gotten. "It really is when you're not struggling to breathe right," he mumbled back while he tried to keep some intrusive thoughts out of his head. Mainly because it wasn't _appropriate_ to imagine himself trying to provide a distraction from whatever show or movie that played in the background. It'd just be him settled in between the other man's legs with their eyes locked as he..

"Good thing I know how to do CPR if that happens," Armie said cheekily as he reached over to casually lay his arm on the back of the couch.

"Good to know, but I'd rather not have my ribs or sternum cracked so pay attention, _Armand_." Timothée chided lightly as he leaned over to pick up one of the throw blankets that had fallen to the ground. Now was the opportune moment to cover his lower half, and he hoped it wouldn't rouse any suspicion once he folded his hands over his lap. He had his own eyes on the tv screen again and miss the way Armie looked at him.

"You sound like you're going to quiz me at the end," Armied huffed back in response as he went to watch the movie anyways.

"Maybe I will, or.. maybe I won't if you don't try and tickle me again," Timothée said with a small sniff as he leaned his head against the man's arm.

Armie's lips twitched into a small smile while he hummed in thought. "You have yourself a deal, Tim-o- _tay_."

Timothée swallowed thickly from the way his name sounded and said nothing else has he kept his eyes forward. There was only half an hour left before the movie was over and he swore that was the longest half hour of his _life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this entire series will be heavily influenced based off of what all of you folks want to see so be sure to leave a comment on here or send me a message [over on my Tumblr! ](http://peche-keen.tumblr.com/)


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